People Who Need People
by CassandraRoseCrane
Summary: Miranda Priestly finds love.


_People Who Need People_

**The man wearily walked up the stairs of the Manhattan townhouse, to the bedroom he shared with his wife. It was in the early hours of the morning on the day after their anniversary. Remembering that fact caused him a strong twinge of guilt. He felt terrible for missing the opportunity to spend the special day with her, but circumstances had made it impossible for him to arrive home in time. He had been away on business, and his flight, scheduled to depart at noon, did not even leave the runway until eight at night, due to inclement weather. His phone refused to have a signal when he most needed it, rendering him incapable of even informing her in advance that he wouldn't be arriving home on time. When he did finally make it home, the recent snowfall complicated things further by making it difficult for him to find a way to travel the few more miles he needed to before he reached his home.**

**Eventually, he had arrived home, and found that he was exhausted and cold. Only when he had reached his home did he become aware of his physical condition. Thoughts of how his wife would react to his absence had permeated his thoughts, and eclipsed all others. After getting something from his office, he went upstairs, and slipped into their bedroom to find that the lights were still on. His heart constricted at the sight before him. **

**She was in bed, but she was lying on top of the blankets, fully clothed. Her reading glasses and cell phone rested by her side on the bed. The mock up for next month's issue of the magazine she edited was on her other side. As if the fact that she had attempted to wait up for him needed to be driven home any further, he noticed that she was wearing a blue satin dress, which had undoubtedly been selected specifically for the occasion of spending a night on the town with him to celebrate their anniversary.**

**He quietly placed his bags in a corner and walked closer to the bed. When he came to stop a few feet away from it, he gazed down lovingly at her, regret obvious in his eyes. She looked uncharacteristically vulnerable as she slept, with one elegant arm dangling slightly over the edge of the mattress. Seeing her that way reminded him of how much he had missed her over the days he had been gone. He reached out to touch her, but withdrew his hand, not wanting to disturb her, and turned away from her instead. "I'm sorry." The whispered words trailed behind him as he went to the bathroom to prepare for bed.**

**He was finished minutes later, and found her still sleeping when he arrived back in the bedroom. He carefully removed her things from their bed and laid them on the table beside it. Then he placed three other things on the table, near the edge of it, so she would be sure to see them when she woke up. They were a bouquet of red roses that one of the staff had purchased at his request, and left in his office until he returned home to give them to her; a diamond and platinum necklace that he had noticed her admiring when they were in the city one day; and a handwritten card, whose heartfelt message he hoped would remind her of how much he cared for her, and make her see that he was sorry he had missed their anniversary. At the very least, she would know that he hadn't simply forgotten about the special day.**

**He placed an extra blanket over her, since she had none covering her, turned off the lights, and got in on his side of the bed. Tentatively, he also moved under the blanket so he was next to her. After he made sure the blanket was tucked around her, he kissed her cheek lightly. He welcomed the familiar scent of her expensive perfume and the warmth of her satin-clad body beside his. It was good to be with her again. Soon he fell asleep, too tired from the tying events of the day to feel her stir and edge away from him.**

**He awoke several hours later and reached out for her. When he found that he was alone, he sat up and looked around worriedly. "Mira?" There was no response to his use of his pet name for her. The lights came on once again as he went to search for her. She wasn't in the bathroom, or in the sitting area connecting to their bedroom. Nor was she in the bedroom her daughters shared, or even downstairs in her office. Wherever she was, it appeared that she intended not to be found. Dejected, he returned to their room to wait for her. Once he did, he glanced at the table, and noted halfheartedly that the card and the box containing the necklace had been opened. He berated himself then for thinking that his trinkets would have been a good enough substitute for his time.**

**He knew her, he supposed, as well as one could know her. He knew that she expected the utmost from everyone around her. In return, she asked the same of herself. She gave her all to everything in her life; something many people didn't consider, or even realize, when passing judgment on her. Her marriage, the time she spent with her daughters, and, of course, her career, were all managed efficiently, and balanced, for the most part, as fairly as possible. In her eyes, he figured, the gifts on the table served as an unacceptable consolation for his not being present for the evening they had intended to spend together.**

**With a sigh, he leaned his head against the cool glass of the French doors leading out to the balcony that connected to their bedroom. He knew all too well that their marriage would not have lasted as long as it had if they had not cared so much for one another. But because they did love one another, they had been married for years, despite the fact that they both had very demanding careers; she overseeing a magazine, and he running a corporation. Unfortunately, the love they shared did nothing to make their marriage easier. They carefully planned their time, always being able to find some to spend with one another because it was so important to them. It wasn't simple to do, but it was possible, except, of course, when delayed flights and inclement weather separated them.**

**The brilliant shimmer of moonlight reflecting off of something outside drew his attention away from his remorseful thoughts. When he looked closer, he was able to visualize her silhouette against the dimly lit night sky. She was seated on the settee outside with her back to him. The strands her bob were held away from her face with delicate silver hair pins that were nearly the same color as her hair. She had changed into her red, silk pajamas, and wore a white fur coat over them. The front of the luxurious creation was open enough to reveal his necklace, the object that had caught the light seconds before and revealed her presence to him.**

**After taking his coat from the closet, he placed it on over his pajamas, and cautiously stepped outside to join her. It wasn't snowing at the time, but a generous dusting of it from earlier covered the part of the balcony that was not covered overhead. Though she didn't turn her head when he approached, her cool, quiet voice acknowledged his presence. "I see you're back now."**

"**Yes." He remained uncertainly rooted to the same place for an instant, and then walked around to stand in front of her. With his fingertip, he lightly traced the outline of the necklace against her porcelain skin. "That looks stunning on you. I knew it would."**

**Her eyes followed his movements, but she said nothing in reply. Instead, she simply stared up at him with the deep, blue eyes he adored so, waiting for an explanation. As much as he tried to tell from her expression, he had no idea what she was thinking. It amazed him that he could know her so well, yet never be able to read her emotions when she chose to conceal them from him.**

**He cupped her chin in his palm and looked directly into her eyes. He could not act desperate, or be overly apologetic. At the same time, he had to implore her forgiveness or it would appear that he didn't care that he had missed their anniversary. "Miranda, I am so sorry," he began. "My flight was delayed repeatedly due to the weather."**

**Her face remained fixed in a perfect mask of unconcern. "I waited for you for hours," she commented evenly.**

**The bite of the frosty New York weather was nothing in comparison to the chill he felt when he realized just how much he had disappointed her. She had grown to trust him enough to reveal her feelings to him, but she was purposely closing herself off and concealing them from him then. "I did everything I could to get back in time," he continued. "I couldn't get the jet to take me back, not even a commercial flight. There was just nothing coming back to New York with the weather like it was."**

**"I waited for you for hours," she repeated, "because you never even called me to tell me that you wouldn't be home in time to go out with me."**

**"Darling, I tried repeatedly. I could never get a signal."**

**"I asked you not to go on that trip," she stated flatly.**

**"I explained to you that it was a very important meeting for my company."**

**She was still looking at him with that same, indifferent face. "Am I not important, then?"**

**He closed his eyes for an instant, trying to block out the look on her face, the insinuation **

**that he must have done something terrible enough to make her believe that. "Please don't even ask that. You mean the world to me," he answered quickly, honestly. "I really did everything in my power to try to make it back here in time, but I wasn't able to. I would have much preferred to be here with you rather than stuck at an airport for hours. Now, I am here. There's still time for us to spend together. I've missed you."**

**She opposed his kind words with a raised eyebrow and pursed lips. "That's nice, but it wasn't enough to get you back here in time, was it?" Appearing to have become bored with the conversation, she stood to walk inside. He thought that she looked more entrancing that ever with her fur coat swirling dramatically around her and the setting of the snow covered city behind her.**

**He took her cold, delicate hands in his to stop her before she could leave in an attempt to make her listen. "It would have been enough, if I'd had any choice in the matter. As it was, though, I did not get a say in what happened. Please don't be upset. The twins are at their father's. We'll have the rest of the weekend to ourselves. Let's not waste any more time arguing when we could be enjoying it together."**

**Her eyes wondered to his. "I don't want to argue either." He felt her hands slide from his grasp, as she rebuffed his attempt to warm them in his own. "I only want to go back to sleep." She turned quickly after her frosty pronouncement, and attempted to go inside a second time.**

**Frustrated by her refusal to hear him out, he began to speak, barely giving thought to what he was saying. "Don't you realize how much you mean to me? It scares me sometimes because I love you so. It hurts me when things like this happen, when we can't have time together the way we should. It makes me think that things would have been simpler if we had never fallen in love. But we did. Now, I would never give up what we have to take the easy way out. I care for you too much. I want to make this work, no matter how much effort it requires. I love you. I only want to make you happy, just as you make me happy. But I fear that I'm not able to do that sometimes." He was trying his best to ignore the desperation he felt enveloping him, but was sure it was coming through in his voice.**

**"Goodnight, Jonathan." Her tone was still firm, but gentler than before- or at least that was what he wanted to believe. She disappeared inside quietly and quickly. Through the glass doors, he could see her walk through their bedroom to an unknown destination. He knew better than to follow her, or even attempt to look for her later, when she was in such a mood. He had learned early on in their relationship that such pursuits only served to make things worse. She would find him when she was ready to talk. He wondered back inside and settled back down in their bed, alone, hoping things would be resolved in the morning. She had been wearing his necklace, after all.**

**"I'm going driving. Are you coming?" Her voice floated from the doorway of his home office. He had retired there and focused his thoughts on his work when she hadn't been present for breakfast or lunch earlier that day. However, he found her presence then a welcome distraction from business matters. She moved smoothly to his side before he looked up from the stack of papers on his desk, but the scent of her perfume hinted that she was near. When he did look up at her, he smiled. She was dressed in black Chanel from the sunglasses resting atop her head to the heeled boots on her feet. He readily agreed, as going with her on such occasions was always an adventure.**

**A short time later found them gliding through the Manhattan streets in her top of the line Porsche. Since it was growing dark outside, her sunglasses had been discarded in the leather console between them. The dazzling lights of the city danced off her lovely features, revealing the hint of a smile on her face. The drives they took were her way of putting the normal stresses of life aside. Most would find it arduous to navigate the traffic near their home. She found the task exhilarating.**

**The length of their spontaneous journeys depended on the depth of her worries at the time. Sometimes, they only ventured several miles away from home, other times they traveled to a completely different state. No matter what the distance, though, it was understood that he was never to inquire about their destination. It wasn't of consequence to him anyway. He would find out their intended location when they arrived. She always managed to find new and exciting places for them to end up. It appeared that they were setting out on one of their longer trips, though, since her daughters were gone for the weekend, and they were nearing the Lincoln Tunnel. The traffic was lighter there, so she expertly shifted gears and punched the gas once they entered the tunnel.**

**He was anxious to ask her what it was all about. Did the trip mean that she was not mad at him, or was it a form of further torture? However, another unspoken rule of journeys such as the one they were on was that they never discussed everyday matters. Too many words clogged valuable time they could be spending together. So he remained quiet. Whether or not the topic was trivial, he preferred silence to the words that might be said if he were to speak up.**

**One of her gloved hands came to rest inches from his, reminding him that under other circumstances, they wouldn't still be together. They had met for the first time at a party thrown by a mutual friend years before. Her aloofness intrigued him when she brushed off his attempt at polite conversation with one of her signature icy barbs. Her husband had recently left her, frustrated by her extreme devotion to her career. He was a widower who had become quite the ladies man in the years after his wife's death, and planned on never marrying again. Her reaction only made him determined to get past her cold exterior, and get her into his bed. His intentions had been far from honorable then. He figured it would be entertaining to tell his friends about how he melted the famously frigid editor.**

**After several weeks of painstakingly thorough pursuit, she agreed to go out with him, if only to make him leave her alone. For reasons he couldn't determine, he had been uncharacteristically nervous before he picked her up to take her to dinner, but he must have done something right that night. When he asked if he could see her again, she had nodded slightly before gliding inside her townhouse.**

**Unfortunately, there had been something that he hadn't counted on when he made his plans. Once he was able to convince her to open her heart to him, he found that the woman who he thought was callous and unlovable was more complex than he had imagined. He slowly began to see a different side of her once he did gain her trust. **

**Though she was acutely aware that the exhibition of any weakness on her part could have a negative impact on her career, and went to great lengths to keep from showing any, she began to let her guard down around him. One such time was the night he brought her home and she ran straight to her daughters to hug them, despite the fact that the glasses of juice they were each holding could have easily ruined her mink coat. Or the time he noticed her trembling when they got in the car after a close call with a group of particularly aggressive paparazzi. Eventually, he began to realize that the softer, even vulnerable, woman that he glimpsed more and more frequently was the real her. Somewhere along the way, he found himself falling in love with the woman who was so carefully being revealed to him.**

**Much more frightening to him than the admission of his feelings to himself was the knowledge that he would have to find a way to express them to her. When he finally gathered his courage, she stared at him incredulously after he confessed what was in his heart. Then she looked away for several seconds that dragged by like hours. Before he was able to lose hope completely, she turned back to him with a smile on her face. He was certain that it was the most beautiful smile he had ever seen. She didn't often smile in such a genuine, open, unselfconscious way, and it's rarity made it all the more attractive. Even more special had been when she quietly told him that she loved him, too.**

**They were in New Jersey then, at the house there they used occasionally. Her cool, blue eyes stealthily studied his profile as they got out of her car. Though they had an affectionate relationship, she was careful to never fully expose the depth of her feelings for him. In the past, she found that she rendered herself vulnerable when she did so. From then on, she kept her emotions to herself, for fear of being hurt again. Fortunately, he understood the reason for her detachment, and didn't hold it against her, or attempt to change her. She was ever the more grateful to him for that.**

**It had started to snow lightly during their trip. It was confusing, she reflected as she walked towards the house, distractedly brushing some snowflakes from her coat, that one man could make her feel so free and so fettered at the same time. Falling in love with him had enabled her to open herself to love in a way she hadn't been able to for many years, but, at the same time, the love she had for him bonded her to him in a way that frightened her. That was why it hurt so much when he let her down. Somehow, though, she didn't mind the pain because she knew-**

**"Did you really mean what you said last night when you said that you fear you don't make me happy?" She took him by surprise with the question, turning around to face him, and staring at him intently through the thin veil of snow.**

"**Yes."**

"**Because I've felt the same way about you," she confessed in a rushed whisper. When she stepped towards him, there was a softness to her eyes that hadn't been there before. **

"**I've felt that I've let you down before. It's not possible to have it all, every minute of the day. Sacrifices have to be made. It hurts, but I know it would hurt me worse to not have you in my life. I've accepted that. So I suppose it would be hypocritical to remain angry at you for missing our anniversary."**

**He viewed her with a mixture of weary surprise. "Are you saying that you forgive me for what happened?"**

**She nodded. "What happened was beyond your control. That was obvious. I believe you when you say that you wanted to get home, and that you did everything you could to get back on time. Like I said, sacrifices have to be made on occasion. We both know that I've been late numerous times when we've had plans, or I've missed the engagement completely. It would be foolish of me to dwell on your faults and hold them against you when the same ones exist in me." She shrugged slightly. "Besides, how can I be expected to stay mad at you when you apologize so eloquently," a small smile crept over her lips as she touched her necklace, "and give such beautiful gifts?"**

**He let out a relieved sigh. "I'm glad you feel that way."**

**She glanced up at him sternly. "However, there is one thing you said that I refuse to accept."**

"**What is that?" he asked as she stepped closer to him.**

**She was smiling fully then, content to let the facade drop. "That you think you don't make me happy. I want you to know that you do."**

**It was his turn to smile. "You make me happy, too, darling. Very much so. For what it's worth, happy anniversary," he replied and drew her in his arms to kiss her.**

**FIN**


End file.
